


(Hardly) Rocket Science

by extraordinary



Category: Free!
Genre: Accidental Boners, Established Relationship, High Fluff Percentage, M/M, Massage, PWP, Rimming, Roleplay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-28 22:45:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8465830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/extraordinary/pseuds/extraordinary
Summary: "I'm getting mixed signals," Haru decides, at last, somewhere in between crossing his arms over his bare chest and tightly furrowing his brows. His blatant scepticism is all kinds of stupidly appealing, really. "What's all this, Rin?"[REWRITE OF MIXED SIGNALS. Now includes such bonuses as: roleplay, gratuitous use of honorifics, and 10% more swearing.]





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Mixed Signals](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2537192) by [extraordinary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/extraordinary/pseuds/extraordinary). 



> **Here's the deal:** This is a re-write of my old work [Mixed Signals](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2537192/chapters/5693801). It's one of my most popular works, but the truth is that I can't even stand to _look_ at it anymore. So, this is my honest attempt at improving it. As an impromptu NaNoWriMo project.
> 
> The dialogue/setting/overall style has been changed quite a bit, and it's a full 1K longer than it used to be, so I hope it's an enjoyable read to everyone now (including those who've already read the original story). Quite a few similarities with [At First Click](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7212988?view_full_work=true) pop up in this one, so if you'd like... feel free to imagine this is a spin-off/sequel.
> 
> P.S. I'm still working on the 2nd chapter, but I'm hoping to have it up sometime next week.

"I'm going to take a bath."

It takes an extraordinary amount of effort, but Rin does actually manage to wrestle down the nigh overwhelming urge to roll his eyes (and an equally persistent sigh, to boot). Despite the fact that Haru has already shut the bathroom door behind himself with a terribly pointed click. And, therefore, isn't even around to witness any of Rin's generosity.

All right.

Fine.

That's OK.

_Honestly._

It's not like Rin had actually wanted to follow him in there. It really, really, _really_ isn't.

Because:

  * Haru's already considerable ire — courtesy of the uncomfortable position the insufferable idiot had accidentally fallen asleep in on their journey home, complete with a complementary (plastic) glass of wine and a tiny little package of roasted almonds — had somehow escalated into a full-blown sulk by the time the seatbelt indicators had finally lit up to signal the end of their flight.
  * The guy hadn't spoken a single fucking word since they'd picked up their luggage at the carousel. To an increasingly bemused Rin. Or anyone _else_ , for that matter.
  * Last but not least, the taxi ride over to their shared living quarters in Tokyo's Northern Ward had been an extremely unpleasant experience. That's for fucking sure.



Either way, Rin is determined to simply wait it out.

If there's anything he's managed to learn about his 100% water-obsessed teammate — amongst a couple of other (and decidedly more private) designations, that is — over the last couple of years of sharing luxurious hotel rooms and temporary apartments, it's that there are very few problems a nice long soak can't fix. It might take the better part of the evening, but Nanase Haruka _will_ reappear.

As good as new.

Eventually.

In the meantime, Rin is quite content to keep himself occupied by rolling all of their luggage into _'Haru's bedroom'_. Despite its official title (and its original purpose), though, the sparsely furnished room has actually been doubling as a storage-space-slash-game-area for the past couple of months. And it definitely _shows_ , too: there's a bunch of game cartridges strewn around the floor, for example, and the majority of Haru's ridiculously numerous training jammers has been carefully slung across the back of a foldable chair. To the untrained eye, the whole thing probably looks quite orderly and uncluttered. But to a self-proclaimed neat freak, not unlike himself, it's painfully obvious the place hasn't had a visitor for way too long.

It's hardly a surprise, then, that it takes Rin a good couple of minutes to locate the elusive little object that's been on his mind ever since they'd passed Passport Control (and, in the end, he only manages to stumble upon it purely by chance). The thing had been hiding behind an old skateboard, securely tucked away in the shadows, at the very back of Haru's wardrobe. Which had incidentally been the absolute last place Rin'd thought to look for it.

Of course.

_Typical._

With a muffled little grunt, Rin eagerly pulls it out of its hiding place. " _Gotcha_ ," He tells the dusty, rectangular-shaped box — very triumphantly, even — as he does so. "How about we join forces tonight, hmm...?"

 

* * *

 

"Haru...?" He calls out, the very second his ears catch the telltale sound of the bathroom door — traditional Japanese style, just like the majority of their 2LDK flat — opening and closing across the hallway. "I'm in here." _  
_

The wooden floorboards in the hallway creak rather ominously as a towel-clad Haru abruptly pauses in his tracks. Roughly half a minute later, he can be spotted curiously peeking his head inside _'Rin's bedroom'_. The master bedroom. _Their bedroom_.

Anyway.

Moving on.

Smiling up at Haru as benignly as humanly possible, Rin gives the empty space on the mattress next to him a couple of exaggerated pats. In invitation. "I saved you a spot," He adds. On a whim. "If you want it."

True to form, Haru immediately raises an eyebrow in 100% undisguised (and completely unadulterated) suspicion. He thankfully deigns to hold his tongue, however, as he begins to slowly take in each of Rin's painstaking preparations: an old towel has been spread out across the centre of the mattress, the spotlights above the bed have been dimmed to the very lowest setting, and there's a frankly alarmingly large pile of pillows stacked against the headboard.

He blinks. Very endearingly, too.

And then his openly assessing gaze flicks — somewhat automatically, perhaps — towards the night stand. Which is noticeably devoid of the box of condoms and lubricant that usually go hand-in-hand with the towel on the bed. Or their return from abroad, come to think of it.

"I'm getting mixed signals," Haru decides, at last, somewhere in between crossing his arms over his bare chest and tightly furrowing his brows. His blatant scepticism is all kinds of stupidly appealing, really. "What's all _this_ , Rin?"

The corners of Rin's lips twitch. "I thought I'd try my hand at a little bit of _role-playing_ ," He tells Haru then, as sweetly as he can manage (which isn't very much at all), and impulsively throws in an exaggerated little wink. For good measure. "Just get on the bed, all right? I'm giving you a massage. No strings attached. Even though you've done absolutely nothing to deserve it lately, you ungrateful heathen."

Much to Rin's surprise, though, Haru joins him on the bed without complaint.

Well.

Except for this one: "Do you even know how?"

Rin can't help it. Not this time. He simply _has_ to roll his eyes. "What'd I just _say_ , you idiot...?" He half-grumbles, half-teases. He's so fucking _gone_ for a freshly shaven Haru — with his enviably strong jawline, his captivating lips, and his irritatingly attractive chin (of all the fucking _things_ ) — that he can't even pull off a proper retort anymore. It's a little embarrassing, to be honest. "It's hardly rocket science, isn't it? We get them practically every day at the pool. How hard can it possibly be?"

"You'd better not repeat _that_ in front of Miyagi-sensei," Haru fires back. Effortlessly. And without missing a single beat, too. "She'd be forced to lock you in the sauna. _Again_."

Rin isn't willing to back down just yet, though. "I'm not a very patient woman, Nananse-senshu," He says, then, in his very best imitation of Team Hirai's very own on-call massage therapist: the frankly terrifying 50-something Miyagi Aoi. "That's why I decided early on to surround myself with _patients_ , instead."

And then, in his own voice, he adds: "Now get on the fucking towel, Haru. _Before I make you_."

Haru snorts. "You're taking this role-playing thing very seriously, aren't you?"

Even so, he _does_ set about gingerly easing himself down on top of the mattress a moment later. And, while he's at it, he even accepts a tiny little bit of help from Rin (who immediately scrambles to slide a spare pillow underneath Haru's chest and stomach).

"You bet I am," Rin belatedly agrees. He's beginning to feel oddly winded all of a sudden. For no particular reason. "I'm going to give you the best fucking massage you've ever had."

Haru merely grunts in reply, though, which goes a long way to alert Rin to the lingering pain he's still oh-so-stubbornly trying to conceal. They've been on enough overnight flights together by now for _both_ of them to know how disagreeable air-plane seats can be (and how wretched it feels to wake up with a crick in your neck, only to discover you still have another six hours to go). Even in Business Class.

That's why Rin wastes no further time in pressing a soft kiss to the visibly rigid line of Haru's neck. Appeasing. Gentle. _Loving_. "Just try and get comfortable, OK?" He petitions. Rather needlessly. "I'm going to need to fetch a couple of things before we get started."

 

* * *

 

The first item is easy enough to collect. All Rin has to do, there, is fish out the heated little bottle of massage oil he'd left floating in the kitchen sink. It's a no-brainer. Even though it _does_ require him to sacrifice the bottom of his shirt (by using it as a makeshift towel to dry his hands with), he supposes.

Removing the second — and, thankfully, the last — item from the insistently beeping microwave quickly turns out to be little trickier, though.

It's _hot_.

A whole lot hotter than the massage oil.

Practically scalding, even.

In the end, he actually has to wrap a bunched-up towel around his hands — much like a shield — in order for him to simply be able to place the cherry pit heating pad on the counter. And with that hurdle out of the way, he reluctantly decides it's probably not a bad idea to let it _stop steaming first_.

Feeling quite satisfied with himself, Rin then accordingly busies himself by retrieving another towel to wrap around the entire thing once he's deemed it 100% safe for him to do so (and subsequently put it to good use on an entirely unsuspecting _'Nanase-senshu'_ ).

Because there's no way around it: Gou's latest Christmas gift is absolutely fucking perfect for the occasion. It's just large enough for it to snugly cover the back of one's neck like a scarf, it smells utterly _divine_ , and it'll retain its heat long enough for Rin's prideful patient to completely forget himself. For a little while, at the very least.

_Yes._

It's going to be a resounding success. Rin can just about _feel_ it.

And when he's eventually ready to head back out into the hallway, the entire kitchen smells of freshly picked cherries. Which is a pretty fucking nice bonus, as far as he's concerned.

 

* * *

 

A muscle in Haru's back twitches in unmistakable interest at the telltale sound of Rin's socked feet approaching the bed.

His eyes stay firmly shut, though.

Hardly in a rush, Rin spares a moment to simply admire the twin little shadows Haru's eyelashes are currently casting on the sun-kissed skin of his cheeks (and the bridge of his nose, as well). "Your hair's a total mess," He impulsively whispers, then, in favour of a proper greeting. "How am I supposed to concentrate with you looking like _that_? It's practically sabotage, Haru."

As expected, Haru barely reacts to the back-handed compliment. Nor does he deign to acknowledge Rin's proximity.

The rise and fall of his chest remains very steady.

Sedate.

Even.

Slow.

_Deliberate._

The loveable weirdo must not be quite as unaffected as he seems (at a glance), after all. **Rin:** 1, **Haru:** 0.

"You always make it look so _effortless_ , too," Rin suddenly finds himself continuing, just as spontaneously as before, as he makes himself comfortable at Haru's side. Very, very, very carefully so. "All of the fucking things you to do me, y'know...? You're a walking, talking, motherfucking turn-on. All on your own."

Haru instantly buries his nose deeper into the fabric of the mattress cover. "Rin," He admonishes. Gratifyingly breathlessly. "I thought you said _'no strings'_...?"

Wholly unconcerned, Rin merely snorts. "That was before you tried to dry your hair on the mattress," He retorts, and promptly underlines his words by placing both of his palms down on either side of Haru's shoulder blades. Carrying the hot bundle of the cherry pit pad — and the massage oil — to the bedroom has warmed them up considerably. They're nice and toasty now, like he's been holding a freshly brewed cup of green tea for a while. "Don't you worry your pretty little head, though. My intentions are completely pure, _sweetheart_. Tonight, anyhow."

Haru shivers. Very noticeably.

Encouraged, Rin experimentally presses his splayed palms down just a little more firmly and slowly begins sliding them up, up, _up_... riiiiight into the damp mess of Haru's frankly irresistible hair.

It must feel pretty good, too, because Haru's breathing stutters as good as immediately. And then, a split-second later, he's even rewarding Rin with a muffled little noise: something hovering rather awkwardly in between an involuntary whimper and a content little grunt.

"Good?" Rin half-baits, half-inquires. To support his case, he eagerly shuffles even closer (taking care not to jostle an uncharacteristically cooperative Haru around too much as he does so) and leans down to replace his hands with his lips. "Or should I give Miyagi-sensei a call, after all?"

Haru nods. Just once. And then he's quickly shaking his head.

It's ridiculously charming, that is.

"Y'know," Rin starts, self-indulgently allowing his lips to catch on the little knob at the base of Haru's neck as he speaks. "I am actually fully aware of the fact that my amateur skills aren't going to get that kink of yours out completely. That's why I've brought _back-up_."

"What's _that_ supposed to mean...?" Haru wants to know. "I thought you were going to give me the best massage I've ever had."

Rin licks a wet stripe up into Haru's hairline in retaliation. "And I _will_ ," He confidently declares, in between lightly dragging his teeth up and down the sensitive skin he encounters at Haru's nape and occasionally nipping at his very favourite spots. "I just can't guarantee my bare hands are going to be able to do the trick all _on their own_ , 's all I'm saying."

Against all expectations, Haru helpfully turns his head to give Rin even more access (as if he's somehow able to read Rin's increasingly muddled thoughts just as clearly as if Rin has spoken them aloud). As a result, Rin doesn't come back up for air for very a long time. And when he _does_ eventually pull away, it's only to admire his extensive handiwork: row upon row of rapidly fading teeth imprints, highlighted by a shiny trail of saliva, and a veritable galaxy of pretty little goosebumps.

"Too bad I can't leave any lasting marks," He grouches, then, all bark and very little bite. Quite literally, too. "Who the fuck schedules a 6 AM training at the very start of the season, anyway...? Hirai-buchou's such a cruel man. And a _slave-driver_ , too."

Haru hums sympathetically, although he can't quite seem to resist giving voice to his own thoughts on the matter: "You're lucky I don't bruise easily, Rin."

Rin pointedly skirts the pads of his fingers all the way down Haru's bare spine, and lets them _linger_ there — in the little dip at the small of Haru's back, right at the very edge of the towel around his hips — while he considers his options. "Is that so?" He drawls, then, as playfully as he can manage (given the way all of his blood seems to be in the middle of abandoning his head in favour of greener pastures, way down south). "I wonder what other delightful traits of yours I could exploit, in that case..."

Haru catches on satisfyingly quickly. "Whatever you do — ," He grunts. In a clear warning. And in stark contrast with the way he's still unabashedly arching up into Rin's touch, as well. " — don't you _dare_ tickle me."

Rin grins.

Decides that _must_ be his cue to properly straddle Haru's thighs.

And says: "It wouldn't kill you to trust me once in a while, y'know?"

Haru quickly — and very transparently, of course — opts to change the subject. "Where's that odd scent coming from?" He asks. "It smells like mulled wine."

"That'd be my back-up," Rin obligingly divulges, twisting around to retrieve the source of the delicious scent from its perch at the edge of the bed. "Remember that cherry pit thing I got for Christmas? It'll probably be pretty damn hot at first, so... consider yourself warned, OK? It's going to feel really good once you get used to it, though!"

Deciding a hands-on demonstration is in order to help jog the memory, Rin carefully lowers the hot little bundle down over the back of Haru's neck and shoulders. As expected, the unfamiliar weight and pressure immediately draws a faint gasp out of Haru's tightly clenched teeth. Still, it isn't long at all until Haru becomes accustomed to the new sensation(s). And visibly relaxes. With an unintelligible little noise.

Smiling contently, Rin watches Haru sink deeper and deeper into the large pillow underneath his chest.

"Pretty nice, yeah...?" He tries (very quietly), after a long pause, and sets about securely tucking both ends of the makeshift _'scarf'_ in place. Once he's satisfied, he finally reaches behind himself. And blindly feels around for the massage oil. "Let me know if it's cooled off too much, all right? I can remove some of the towels I wrapped around it. It should last us at least half an hour, or so. In total."

Haru doesn't reply.

Instead, he lets Rin apply a healthy dose of the oil directly onto his lower back. In a misshapen — and terribly embarrassing — heart-shape, to boot. He even stays perfectly still throughout the entire thing. Until a shiver makes its way down his spine (and Rin finds himself needing to swallow down the sudden lump in his throat), that is. Again.

 

* * *

 

The plan, if you can even call it that, goes something like this: Rin will start all the way at the bottom of Haru's spine and gradually work his way up (in order to give the heat of the cherry pits enough time to thoroughly penetrate Haru's smarting muscles before he even attempts to touch _those_ ). And, once he's reached the impossibly soft little hairs at the nape of Haru's neck, he'll remove one of the towels around the hot pouch and slowly make his way down again.

That's _it._

That's the plan.

And Rin is going to stick with it.

Because Haru might seem willing enough to give him free rein _now_ — and has even made a significant effort to loosen up as much as possible — but Rin knows from experience just how tall of an order staying loose and pliant can be while someone is happily going to town on all of your most vulnerable nooks and crannies. To top things off, Haru probably hadn't even realised how much tension he'd been carrying around all day until he'd completely lowered himself down onto the towel. And, when it really comes down to it, Haru is an incredibly flightly little thing.

That's why Rin is much better off playing it safe.

 _'Keep it simple'_ , you know?

His only role, now, is make certain _'Nanase-senshu'_ stays on the bed long enough for both of them to reap at least some of the benefits of his unexpected cooperation. That's all.

Taking a much needed — and undeniably fortifying — breath, Rin tentatively lowers his palms down on either side of Haru's hips. He then gives them a determined squeeze. And begins experimentally rotating his wrists, in half-circular little movements, while slowly bringing them closer together. Until the sides of his thumbs inevitably meet at the very centre of Haru's back. Right over the ridge of Haru's spine. Where his fingertips steadily dip deeper (and _deeper_ ) into the little pool of oil that had settled there.

Its texture is completely different from the sunscreen he's so used to spreading out across _this_ particular part of Haru's body, though. A lot less sticky (and obviously sharing quite a few more traits with the water-based lubricant currently stored away in a drawer of the night stand on Rin's side of the bed). But a lot _greasier_ , too.

Even so, it looks undeniably good on Haru's skin.

Alluring.

Enticing.

_Sexy._

A muscle in Haru's left thigh suddenly twitches, then. As if its owner knows exactly where Rin's wandering thoughts have strayed to.

"Could you kindly stop wrecking my concentration, Nanase _-_ senshu...?" He implores. Very exasperatedly. And with a lot more stress on the honorific than he'd actually intended. "You're making it pretty fucking hard for me to get any _work_ done around here, y'know?"

To his utter relief, though, Haru simply snorts. "Don't make me call you _'Matsuoka-sensei'_ , Rin."

Rin blanches.

Then instantly chooses to pay Haru's words no further mind, focusing all of his attention on exploring the hard muscles of Haru's lower back instead.

If he'd expected the movements to come naturally to him (which he definitely _hadn't_ ), then he would've been sorely disappointed. It's awkward. Slow-going. And a little nerve-wrecking. Despite his initial floundering, however, it _does_ gradually become easier as he spreads out more of the oil that had gathered in the curve of Haru's back.

Soon Rin's confidence rises along with his wandering palms.

It's becoming increasingly difficult for him to remember why they'd never done this kind of thing before, too. There's just something incredibly intimate about the way he's able to closely watch — and _feel_ — the subtle changes in the rhythm of Haru's breathing. Without getting caught up in his _own_ pleasure (amongst other things).

For example: whenever Rin's splayed hands softly skirt the edge of the towel around Haru's waist, there's a _very_ noticeable hitch.

It's all kinds of distracting.

Yet undeniably flattering, as well. Not to mention incredibly encouraging.

"D'you like that?" He teases, lightly pressing a thumb down into the little valley of Haru's tail bone (still hidden from his view by the unforgiving fabric stubbornly hugging Haru's hips). His hands are getting everything dirty, but he honestly couldn't care less. In fact, he almost ends up missing Haru's barely perceptible nod. He's far too busy cataloguing every little involuntary twitch of the powerful muscles underneath his hands. "Or are you going to file a sexual harassment report against me as soon as you walk out of my office...?"

Haru's lips curl into an amused smile. "That depends," He decides. "On your _skills_."

Growing bolder by the second, Rin spreads his fingers as wide as they'll go and allows them to begin their inevitable journey upwards. He tauntingly brushes his fingertips along the sides of Haru's ribs on his way up, then quickly follows the playful touch up with a much firmer — and hopefully sufficiently appeasing, at that — one. All the while liberally coating every inch of of Haru's skin (within his reach) in a glossy, thin layer of oil.

It isn't long until he's almost leaning down over Haru's body completely.

Still.

He keeps going. Pausing only to rub his hands up and down Haru's deltoids and triceps. Until he finally feels ready to explore each little dip of Haru's shoulders and — very cautiously — guide his fingers further underneath the solid weight of the heating pad, in order to carefully manipulate the steadily loosening muscles there.

Haru groans appreciatively as he does so.

Unexpectedly loudly so.

And the sound of it goes straight to Rin's groin.

_Fuck._

In spite of all his flirtatious taunting and play-acting, Rin honestly hadn't intended for this little endeavour of his to turn into a full-blown _erotic massage_. He'd just assumed they'd both be far too exhausted to get in the mood for anything more stirring than a couple of leisurely kisses (before turning the lights off and allowing sleep to claim them until the alarm inevitably goes off and wakes them up again).

But, at this rate, Haru is undoubtedly going to become aware of the familiar weight of Rin's hardening cock nudging his — fortunately still towel-covered — ass sooner or later.

Perhaps it's not a bad idea to address the incredibly arousing sound he'd just made (and the effect it's having on certain parts of Rin's anatomy), then, before things truly get out of hand.

" _Time-out_ ," Rin eventually manages to announce, alarmingly breathlessly, and can't seem to stop himself from grinding his hips down to let Haru know exactly what he's doing to Rin. His rapidly growing erection (which has already begun to strain against his loose fitting pyjama bottoms quite a bit) is now insistently pressing into the soft flesh of Haru's thigh. Just below the swell of his buttocks. And Rin is absolutely certain the rest of him can already make out the heat and intensity of his building arousal, despite the layer of fabric separating their skin. They're totally teetering on the brink of unprofessional, here. "I'm dead serious, OK? There's no way I'm going to stay at half-mast if you keep making noises like _that_. Quit it."

"You _can_ multi-task, can't you...?" Haru counters. Easily. Without breaking a sweat. And even goes as far as to empathise his words with a slow, deliberately provocative roll of his hips. The way Rin has only ever seen him do a handful of times before. "It doesn't seem to be affecting your work. Just suck it up, Rin."

And then (a little more quietly), he adds: "I was just getting _into it_."

Rin nearly loses his precarious balance in surprise.

He hadn't seen _that_ coming.

At all.

"What about _'no strings'_ , then?" He breathes, feeling completely out of his depth, and fruitlessly attempts to pinpoint the moment things had escalated straight into foreplay territory. He comes up with absolutely _nothing_. Unsurprisingly. "You do know I'm all talk, right? I honestly wasn't expecting any reciprocation tonight. I don't mind taking care of it on my own once in a while. Seriously."

Haru frowns. "Don't be an idiot," He tells Rin then. And promptly proves his point by bending one of his legs to trap Rin in place. "Everyone knows _'best massage'_ trumps _'no strings'_ , Matsuoka-sensei."

Despite himself, and the entire situation, Rin _laughs_.

And then he's gratefully burying his nose into Haru's hair (in a half-hearted attempt to muffle the majority of his helpless chuckles). "You've got me there," He allows. Slipping completely back into character again. "You're a difficult man to please, Nanase-senshu."


End file.
